Totally Wrong For Me  Harry Styles Fanfic
by DirectionerForever
Summary: This is a fanfic about One Direction from the UK Show, X Factor, which is like a foreign version of American idol for you US-ers.  It centers around Harry Styles and Zayn Malik, but there will be all the other characters also! :   Please read   comment! 3
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

After 10 hours and 33 minutes in a plane, there was nothing I wanted to do more than jump into my bed and sleep for three days. Unfortunately, I realized after 2 hours of tossing and turning, that this was not going to happen. At all. I looked at the crappy digital clock on my bedside table. It told me that it was 4:10AM here in New York City, And I couldn't help but think of what Harry was doing right now. It was 9:10AM in London, where he was right now, with his all-boys singing group, One Direction. One Direction is mostly famous for being the most popular (and attractive) group of boys on The X Factor, a reality singing competition that airs in the UK. I'm sure there were millions of girls out there right now thinking exactly what I was thinking, but there was a huge difference between those girls and I: I knew all of One Direction, especially Harry. Personally. I know you're not going to believe me, but it's true. Let me tell you how it all started...

_3 Weeks Ago_

All I remember about the actual plane I took to England was that the trip was long and boring. I was going to visit my father for the holidays- He lives in Holmes Chapel, Cheshire, which is a while out from London. It's pretty dead- never any action, never any interesting people. I've been doing this back-and-forth for Christmas for 5 years now, ever since I turned 10 and my mother decided it would be smart for me to get some foreign air and see the man who had divorced my mom 13 years ago. Usually every year, it's not so bad; I just hole myself up in the tiny guest room with my laptop and videochat everyone back home until I get tired and go to bed, with the exception of Christmas Day, where I escape the solace of my little bubble for a measly half hour to open the 5 gifts under my tree: one from dad, one from mom, one from my grandparents, one from my Uncle Kenny and Aunt Linda, and one from my best friend Kendall. Then I retreat back to my room and order take-away. Then, before I know it, I'm back on a plane headed to New York. Simple as that: no awkward small-talk (except for the 3 hour car ride from the airport to the house) and no arguments. Anyway, as soon as I saw my dad in the middle of the chaos in Heathrow, I knew there would be trouble. The look on his face was much too excited to be regular. He looked like he was about to explode, his grin being so big and his face being so red. I walked over to him and gave him an awkward one-armed hug, saying nothing but a, "Hey dad, what's up?" and retreating immediately to the exit.

"Not so fast, pumpkin. I got us a company car to drive us, so we can talk on the way there!" This made the already seemingly elastic smile on his face expand noticeably. I won't lie and say I wasn't frightened.

"Oh, uh, Dad, you really didn't need to spend money on that..."

"Nonsense! I haven't seen you since you were THIS small!" He raised an open down-facing palm up to about his waist. I frowned.

"Dad, I was here last year at this exact time, and I was only an inch shorter than I am now." I gestured to my 5 foot 4 frame, drawing emphasis on my dissapointment.

"Oh." He looked a little deterred by my sour mood, but that didn't stop him. "Well, exactly! I feel like we haven't been talking at all!" He put a hand on my back, pushing me along with him to the exit."

"We haven't been talking. That's my poi-"

"Lindsay, meet Walter. He's going to take us to Holmes Chapel today."

Walter, a middle-aged man with graying hair held out his hand for me to shake, and looking at his face, he didn't seem too keen on the idea of driving a hyped-up father and his surly teenaged daughter for 3 hours in the countrysides of England. I said hello to him and climbed into the white company car. It was nice, and smelled like pine trees. It was already too far away from home to be comforting. As my father sat down into the seat next to me, I let the annoyance leak into my voice.

"Dad, can't you move over a little bit?"

My dad looked at me, hurt, and then slid over to the other seat wordlessly for the first time today, leaving lots more space between us. I took advantage of this and lay my legs in this space, reclined backwards, and put my hands behind my head, ready to dose off. I felt the Walter start the car, and with a gentle nudge, the car started to move. I could feel the air from one of the open windows start to wrestle with my blond hair. It felt relaxing. I was starting to drift off when out of nowhere, my dad began to ramble on and on. What was with this behavior?

"So, I renovated the house a couple months back, but I didn't tell you, because I wanted it to be a surprise. Your room looks great. Total and complete makeover upgrade from the old guest room. I asked your mom about the kinds of things you liked, but she never replied to my email. So I had to ask Aunt Linda, and..."

I internally groaned, resisting the urge to facepalm. My poor dad was trying to do a nice thing, but majorly failed, no surprise. Aunt Linda doesn't know the first thing about me. I usually end up regifting her holiday gifts to me. Last year, I got a long pink fleece jumper with rainbow unicorns and ponies all over it, and I couldn't find anyone who would even blow their nose into it. My little solace bubble has probably been redesigned into a 3 year old girl's fantasy world. Lovely.

"Aren't you excited, peanut! A whole 3 weeks of us together! No school, no work, nothing! I've planned the greatest stuff for us to do! You're going to have the time of your life! There is so much to do here- you'd be surprised! Maybe we'll go for a hike, it's quite picturesque here. And maybe we'll travel to London, and hire Walter again! We can do some shopping... girls like to shop, right?"

I may have imagined it, but I swear, I heard Walter mutter a profanity. Instead of snapping at Dad again (I still felt kind of bad for yelling at him to move over), I plucked my iPod out of my Louis Vuitton hand-me-down from my mom and put the headphones in, turning on Only Girl in the World, by Rihanna. As I was silently jamming out in my head, my father rudely interrupted by taking one of the earbuds out of my ear.

"Linds, I can hear the music from here!"

"THAT'S THE POINT!" I said, much louder than I intended. I turned down the volume.

"Is that the new Rihanna song that One Direction sang on X Factor?" He asked rather obnoxiously.

"Yes. They butchered it." Needless to say, even though I was American, I watched X Factor every Saturday and Sunday through it's official Youtube Channel, and I was definitely Team Cher Lloyd. One Direction could kiss my-

"They didn't! They were rather good!"

I swear, my mouth dropped open to the ground.

My father, the one who left our family, the 50 year old man with almost grey hair and wrinkles, the one who wears only designer labels...

My father the ONE DIRECTION FANBOY?

What is the world coming to?

"Which brings me to my next point... Lindsay, how would you feel about meeting One Direction?"

If it was even possible, my jaw dropped even more.

Meeting One Direction! What? I didn't even like them! They stole all the votes that would've gone to Cher. Sure, they were attractive, especially Zayn Malik, but why on earth would I want to meet them? This really stirred my fathers pot, and I hadn't even replied yet.

"One of my good friends works on X Factor, and he agreed to take you backstage to meet them, wow, you should be so excited. They're excited for you, too! I told them all about how a pretty 15 year old girl with blond hair and blue eyes was coming, and that she was a big fan, and-"

"Sounds like fun, Dad." I just needed him to shut up now. I had a huge headache, and it wasn't going to go away with him chatting away. I guess there was no way out of meeting One Direction. I sighed. Hell, maybe I'll see Cher...


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The rest of the car ride consisted of my father chirping away happily about "being together as a little family!" and "bonding as father and daughter." It was excruciating and nauseating and by the time our car stopped outside our house, there was a pounding in my head that I knew would not cease until I was well-rested. Which, of course, would not happen for a while, because it was only 3oclock in the afternoon here in England. I looked at our house: same as usual on the outside: way too big to be considered practical for just one man and his occasional ladyfriends, made of stone bricks, 3 levels high, with a balcony and large glass windows. It didn't fit in with the rest of the houses on our lane. There were flower pots lining the short walk to the front door, with fresh crisp white lilies in each of them. Walter opened the trunk of the car for me and I reached inside to get my two navy blue suitcases with pink and white polka dotted ribbons on the handles. I yanked them out and started walking up the drive, waiting for my father to finish talking to Walter and open the door. I needed to get to my room immediately and unpack and get away from the menace that was my father.

"Can't you be just a little more patient, darling?" My father called out to me, still handing something to Walter, probably some fancy stupid business card. I tapped my foot, irritated. I reminded myself to ask dad for a key of my own. Much more convienient than waiting around for dad to do stuff more me: I had learned a long time ago not to depend on people too much, or you'll end up hurt.

After what seemed like 20 minutes, my dad ambled slowly up the drive, pulling out a slender key from under the cheesy doormat. "Welcome home!" it proclaimed. I sighed. Why couldn't I have thought of doing that? And why the hell does it say "Welcome home!" if I'm miles and miles away from my actual home?

"I'll get you your own key- don't you worry." My father said, pinching my nose with his fingers. He must've thought this was some sort of doting gesture, but it really just kind of hurt. I tried to remember that my dad is completely out of touch with the whole 'fathering' thing, but I really just ended up even more pissed off than before. Before I could yell at him again, the door was unlocked, and I scrambled to run up the stairs. But then I looked around the house, and realized I had NO idea where I was. In my peripheral vision, I could see a triumphant grin on my father's face.

The house was completely different than the last time I saw it: and I have a good memory. My dad was not much for interior decorating, or maintaining nice things, so this was a shock to me. My dad only tries to keep up appearances by having the outside of the house appear to be luxurious and pretty, and ostentatious enough to keep the wrong people out and the right people impressed. The inside of the house had always been minimalist and simple: light colored walls, wooden floors, rugs only in places that were needed, but they were always crooked. No paintings, pictures, or momentos of his travels, with the exception of one picture of me and my dad, taken in the hospital minutes after my birth. Only a few pieces of furniture in each room, only the necessities; chairs, sofas, beds, cabinets, and tellys. Clearly, my father had hired some sort of interior decorator, because he definitely did not have enough style for these ideas to be his alone. The previously neutral-toned walls were repainted with rich, inviting colors and wallpapers, tapestries hanging evenly on the surfaces. The lush carpeting and glossy hardwood under my feet was brand new and ornate. Vintage sofas invited me to lie down, and matching ottomans asked me to put my feet up and take a rest. And embarrassingly enough, on a mahogany table right in the front entry, there were pictures of me everywhere. It looked like a shrine: all my school pictures, pictures of me winning awards from school and from my soccer tournaments, pictures of me with him and with my mother, pictures retelling me stories of my childhood that were buried deep inside my mind, to be forgotten. My mouth must have been gaping, and I must've been staring for quite some time, because my father cleared his throat, his smile even wider.

"Do you like it?"

"Woah, Dad... I can't even think of what to say... It's so posh!"

"Thank you. I can't wait for you to meet the guy who helped me with it."

"I KNEW you couldn't have done it alone!" I was smiling, I couldn't help it. The place was grand. I would have never expected my father to pull off such a thing.

"Want to go see your room?" He smiled again. My mood soured in almost the same instant. MY room. The room that Aunt Linda did instead of the mysterious man who decorated the first floor, and probably the rest of the house.

"Um, sure. Let's go." I left my suitcases on the first floor, walking up the stairs to the second floor, the floor where my room was.

"Dad, what door is it?" I asked, trying to remember. Even the hallways looked totally different, I couldn't remember which door my room was connected to to save my life.

"The one that says your name on it, silly!" He said, chuckling lightly. Oh. That was a stupid question. I wandered down the hallway in search of the door. After a few seconds, I found it. It was smack in the middle of the hallway, with my name Lindsay carved in elegant script into the wood and then painted over in gold. This couldn't be good. I grasped the crystal doorknob with both hands, squeezed my eyes closed, and turned it, opening the door and walking in. I opened my eyes.

Oh my god. It was worse than I could've ever imagined, because it was so perfect.

How did this happen! Am I thinking of the right Aunt Linda?

The walls were sleek, painted with a pale baby blue. There was a walk-in closet on one wall, and a door connected to what seemed like a posh bathroom on the opposite wall. The color of the walls opened the room up and made it look ten times bigger than before. In the corner of my bedroom was a huge bed, big enough to fit 5 of me, with a white canopy and a silver and dark navy blue accented bedcover. All around the room were various white cabinets and little accents, like a coat hanger and a purse hanger, and little mannequins to plan outfits for the next few days. There was a jewelry box on my nightstand, right next to a large antiqued silver lamp. There was also a TV, and a minifridge, to keep the room modern.

"How do you like it, darling?" My father asked, carrying my bags behind him, putting a hand on my shoulder. Normally, I would've shrugged away from this kind of contact, but right now, I couldn't even believe this was real.

"Oh my god." They were the first words to come out of my mouth. I struggled to say something else, but it was like someone had pulled my vocal cords. Now my dad looked worried.

"If there's something wrong, if you don't like some of it, it's fine! You can stay in the new guest room while we fix it up-"

"No! Dad! Don't you dare change it- it's fabulous. I love everything about it. It's all amazing and just how I imagined it. It's perfect. I don't even know how you managed to make it so large! It was about half this size last time I came..." It was probably more than anything I had said so far. But everything was true. I don't even know how it was possible to hit the head of the nail so well. My father looked pleased.

"I'm glad. We attached the old guest room and another room together. That small was getting a tad too small for a teenaged girl, don't you think. Well, in any case, again, I'm glad you like it so much." He reached to give me a hug, then hesitated, but I took action and gave him a real hug. It was only about 2 seconds long, but still, it was a hug. "I'll leave you to, err, unpack now." My dad left the room and closed the door gently behind him. I smiled, and brought my suitcases over to the walk-in closet and began to unpack all my clothes. Maybe this trip wouldn't be so bad after all.

_Five Days Later_

I was right: the trip hadn't been so bad so far.. I didn't completely change my ways though, I was spending most of my time in my room or by myself. I woke up at noon, went downstairs in my pajamas to eat some fruit, went back upstairs to take a shower, put on makeup, and change, came back out of my room with my laptop in tow at 1oclock, videochatted and went on Facebook in the corner of the library (a new establishment my father had made on the third floor.), and came back out to the kitchen at around 6oclock, and helped prepare dinner with my father or his cook, Franklin, who I was becoming friends with. Then, my father and I would eat dinner in the massive dining room at the colossal table that sat 18 people. Of course, we sat at opposite ends. Then I would retreat to my room, chat on my computer until 3 in the morning, and then go to bed. It was a very productive day.

But today was going to be different, or so my dad said. It was going to be the day I met One Direction. I wasn't scared. As far as I knew, all I'd have to do was say hi, keep up conversation for five minutes, and then go home. Simple as that. I got up earlier, complying with my dad's instructions, and turned off my alarm clock when it started to beep at half past nine. I got out of my fancy bed, not bothering to make it, and jumped in the shower, deciding to get ready before eating breakfast. After my shower, wrapped my body and my hair in soft fluffy towels and headed to my closet. It was freezing today, so I put on a pair of dark indigo skinny jeans, a light blue long sleeved v-necked shirt that hugged my top, and a pair of knee-high black leather boots, along with a sleek tan-colored trench coat with warm fur lining inside (fake, of course), that I planned to put on later. I packed my old vintage Louis Vuitton with anything I might need: paper, pens, sunglasses, my cell phone, my iPod and my iPad, gum, breath mints, a mini perfume, a snack, some candy, my small makeup bag, and other random necessities. After I was done with this, I blew my blond hair out dry until it was shiny and straight, and went over it with my curler, which made my hair look naturally wavy and bouncy. I pulled out my makeup pouch that I had just packed and did my makeup as I did it everyday concealer and a little blush, with tiny bit of champagne-colored shimmery shadow on my lids, lots of black mascara to make my blue eyes pop, and some pink lip balm. It looked natural. Finally happy with my appearance, I looked myself up and down in my grand, full-sized mirror.

You could say that I looked like the average American girl: blond, blue-eyed, short and thin with a good bust and a healthy behind. I was a rare sight in New York City though; everyone is such a poser there. No one's blonde hair is real anymore, except mine. No one appreciates the natural beauty anymore: it's all about thick black smudgy eyeliner and huge fake lashes. It's about parties and drinking. I'm not into that. Sure, I like to have fun, but I've already had lots of bad experiences with those sorts of things, and I'm not ready to relive those. Maybe guys like me because I am so different. I've had so many guys ask me out, as me to dinner, to dancing, to movies, everything. But I always turn them down: not because they're not cute enough or because they're not good enough, but because of my bad experiences. Last year, when I was just 14, I was a freshman at my public high school in New York City. I caught the eye of a senior and fell head over heels. Classic cliché. But after a while, he got bored of me, and started cheating on me. I was with him for 7 months, and I never suspected a thing. Until his best friend finally told me. I was crushed. I had changed everything about myself for him: I had turned into a social drinker and smoker, and had gone around the bases with him. After he broke up with me, instead of turning back into the good girl that I was, I got really into my new bad habits. I was out every night, drinking and dancing and hooking up with guys twice my age instead of doing my school work. Eventually, my mom pulled me out of that school and used her connections to get me into an all-girls private school. That's where I met Kendall, my best friend. Now I'm a lot better, but I'm not fully healed.

After my self-examination, I grabbed my Louis Vuitton bag and my Burberry trench and skipped down the stairs to meet my dad and grab some breakfast. I smiled at my dad, who met me at the foot of the stairs. He looked me up and down and smiled.

"Where did my little girl go?" He joked, giving me his arm in the most old fashioned way he possible could. I took it gingerly. "She's gone." I grinned as he lead me to the kitchen where there two small cups of vanilla yogurt with some honey and sweet granola. It looked delicious. I sat down at a stool and took a small spoon and scooped up a healthy bite, putting it into my mouth and savoring the sweet flavor. Before I knew it, I was shoveling it in like my life depended on it.

"Wow, you really hate that, don't you?" Franklin said sarcastically, and I giggled.

"It's so good- you have to teach me how to make it!" I said, grinning and finishing the last of it.

"It's easier than you think." Franklin winks at me. "I'll teach you when you get back from meeting the lads." I stopped myself from groaning before my dad heard. Franklin silently laughed.

"I don't think it'll be that bad, lady. It's only a few hours-"

"WHAT!" I screamed, then covered my mouth. My dad gave me a confused look, and I gave him an apologetic look. "I thought I saw a spider" I said, and turned back to Franklin.

"You don't think your dad would settle with just a few minutes of socializing, do you? He wants you to have the full VIP treatment. 2 hours of talking to them. It'll be fine, lady. Don't stress." Before I could reply sarcastically, my dad pulled me away.

"Time to go! We're just going to spend some time in London. Shopping, lunch, then we'll do some sightseeing, then we'll go to the X Factor Live show. Aren't you excited?" I didn't get the chance to reply, because my dad had taken my arm and before I could count to ten, I was sitting in the back of a company car with my father, with Walter driving yet again.

I was feeling an extreme case of deja vu.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

It was late evening, and I was all shopped out. I had two bags on my arms, and ten more in Walter's trunk. Topshop, Jack Wils, and countless other UK labels, and I had gone to see them all. Most fathers wince at high clothing bills; my father just grinned and swiped his credit card. He was so happy it seemed like he was buying clothes for himself. It was strange, but slightly comforting at the same time. We'd gone around in one of those embarrassing tour routes, and got those four-foot-tall plush British flag hats (mine was stuffed in my bag, my father's perched upon his head). We'd just finished dinner and were now in Walter's car, driving to the X Factor Studio, where they were currently filming. Walter's company car slowed noticeably as we drove past the studios and down a dark and discreet alley. As we neared a fire escape and a door,the car smoothly stopped, and my dad straightened up. "Well," he said. "Here we are!"

He climbed out and walked to my side to open my door. Taking my dad's hand and leaving my shopping bags behind, we climbed up the fire escape together.

"Be quiet, they're performing right now," my dad whispered to me, but before I could reply, the door at the top of the fire escape opened, and a burst of bright light shot out into our faces. We walked inside, my father with a giddy smile on his face, and me with a look of anxiety. A security guard whose name tag said Frank escorted us through multiple hallways until we started to hear something.

Music. Pounding drums, and an intense bass, with a female's voice belting out through the rooms, echoing off the walls. It kept getting louder and louder until we got to the source of it: we were backstage, literally looking out on Rebecca Ferguson finishing her final notes of her ballad of the week. I could clearly see the panel of judges and the rows and rows of adoring fans. Some of them were tearing up, some sitting on the edges of their seats, and some, like me, with just eyes full of awe. It was amazing.

"This is really something, huh?" My dad said, clearly impressed.

"Yeah..." I replied, trailing off.

"Imagine what it would be like to perform up there-"

"I think I know some people who would know!" A deep tenor Australian voice rang out from behind me. I whipped around to see who it was. My dad was shaking hands with this man, a tall dark-haired man with a beard and sunglasses.

"This must be Lindsay." He said to me.

"Yes." I said back to him.

"You dad's told me a lot about you." He said, extending a hand. "I'm Bruce, one of your dad's friends. It's nice to meet you."

I tentatively took his hand and shook it once, staring at the floor. The way he talked to me implied that he was about to ask me a question that I probably didn't want to answer.

I was right.

"So, Lindsay, do you watch X Factor?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"On Youtube."

"Do you have a favorite act?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Who is it? I think I can guess. One-"

"Cher."

"Excuse me?"

"Cher. Cher Lloyd."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"Well, do you know who One Direction is?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to meet them?"

I took a look at my father's eager face and sighed before replying again.

"Why not?"

"Atta girl!" Bruce said, putting a hand on my back and steering me in a different direction.

"He took me down through yet another hallway, into a little lounge with a small bar, a couch, a telly, and a miniature fridge. It was the ultimate "dude" hangout, but it was empty.

"Just wait right here" Bruce said, rushing to the other room next door. I sat down on the couch for a minute, but popped up again and ran to the bathroom.

I looked in the mirror, ran my fingers through my hair, ate a mint. I looked okay. Well, if I do say myself, I looked more than okay. So why was I so nervous? I never got nervous. Why should I even be nervous? It was just a group of boys who I would probably never see again. I talked to boys all the time. I'm great at making conversation. Easy as breathing; you just have to keep the conversation off yourself, and talk about them, things they like to do. And that would be easy, because they're famous.

Right?

Before I could stop myself, I walked back into the hallway to go back to the room, but as I was turning around-

"Ow!" I exclaimed. I was on my butt, with Zayn Malik looking down at me, his perfect pink lips in a shocked O.

"Hey, there she is!" He said, his surprised expression turning to a joking one. Helping me up, he put an arm easily around my shoulders (damn! He was tall! And so fit!) and opened the lounge door.

"Hey lads, I think I found her!" He said loudly, laughing. He looked down at me again.

"You're Lindsay, right?"

All I could do was nod.

Zayn smirked at me, one eyebrow cocked, and I smiled back at him. His arm wrapped around my shoulders naturally, he lead me to the couch in the lounge, where Niall and Liam were sitting and waiting for me.

They had genuine smiles on their faces, and Niall jumped up and gave me a hug, making Zayn move his arm off my shoulders. I hugged Niall back, and felt Niall laughing. Next Liam got off the couch and gave me a quick squeeze.

"It's really nice to meet you" Liam said, kindly.

"Yeah," Zayn interrupted. "We heard a lot about you. And so far it's all true." He said, cheekily glancing at my body and then looking at my face, winking.

"Come on, Zayn," Louis said, appearing out of nowhere. "Making people uncomfortable is my job!" Louis walked over to me to give me a fist pound.

"Where's Harry?" Liam asked the room. I didn't really care, Harry was my least favorite.

"I dunno, but he's missing a lot." Zayn said, giving me a huge smile. I couldn't help but grin back. Our eyes met and connected for a second, and his eyes twinkled.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash from outside the door. Zayn's piercing eyes didn't leave mine and I had to break the stare and open the door.

Standing there was Harry Styles, his curls in a mess, panting with a bit of sweat covering his forehead. He looked nervous and very rushed.

"What's wrong with you, Harry?" Zayn asked, sounding genuinely confused, maybe a little worried. Harry cracked a small smile at Zayn and ran a hand through his curls, fixing them so they weren't as frazzled as they were before.

"Just had to literally spring away from some crazy fans. Sorry." He wiped his forehead with one hand, and turned his attention toward me. He glanced at my body before locking his eyes with mine, grinning.

"Sorry we had to meet like this. I look awful, I'll bet." He stuck his hand out for me to shake. "I'm Harry, in case you didn't know already."

I shook his hand, feeling myself smile a little. "Lindsay."

"Lindsay," he repeated, giving me a tiny wink and walking over to the miniature fridge, separating our hands. My palm was tingling a little, it had felt like a shock wave had passed through our hands.

Before I knew it, Zayn's arm was around my waist, leading me over to two barstools in the other room. When he thought I wasn't looking, he turned to the other guys and mouthed "Mine." I gulped as Louis and Liam winked back at him, Niall just laughed, and Harry just kinda stared. I turned away before I could see anything else.

"Take a seat." Zayn said to me, very charmingly. I popped a squat upon the elevated stool, still a good few inches shorter than Zayn even when I was raised off the ground. I sighed.

"Is everything alright?" Zayn asked, the skin in between his eyebrows rumpled in worry.

"Yeah, of course. I'm just short, is all." I replied, smiling. Zayn laughed.

"Well, I think it's cute." I blushed a little asa he took a seat on the stool across from mine.

"Do you want anything to eat? Drink?"

"Do you have any water?" I asked.

"Yeah, one second." He hopped up hurriedly and walked over to the miniature fridge in the other room. Harry popped in as Zayn was walking out, and ran over to me, leaned over and whispered,

"Be careful, alright?"

I wrinkled my nose. Zayn was fine.

"What are you talking about..." I asked.

"Just... Zayn's kind of a serial dater, if you know what I mean." he smiled. "He's my mate, but, just..."

"He seems fine, Harry, but thanks."

Harry set his mouth in a little line of displeasure. "Fine, but I'm always here if you need to get sprung."  
My mouth must have opened in shock, did he mean to use "sprung" that way! Harry noticed and started laughing hysterically.

"NO! Not like that. I meant, if you need to get out of this little... private meeting, just call me."

"Well, I won't be doing that."

Harry's mouth opened a little in shock as well, and he snapped it right back up.

"Well, then-" He said defensively, turning to leave.

"I don't have your number, stupid." I said, teasingly.

Harry grinned, asked for my phone, and punched in his number and his BBM PIN.

"Text me, so I can get your number too."

And with that, he was out of the room.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"What just happened..." I was thinking to myself, playing and replaying the past two minute scenario in my head. I was so deep in thought that I didn't hear Zayn when he walked back into the room, two cold water bottles in his hands.

"Are you alright? Sorry to keep you waiting-"

"Don't worry about it. I was just thinking about some things Harry had just said to me." I replied, using a casual tone of voice.

"...Harry? What about Harry?" The way Zayn said his name seemed a little less friendly and a little more confused.

"Yeah, didn't you know? He just walked in here and started talking to me. It was nice."

See, most people would think what I was doing right now is really cruel. But it's simple. I'm playing hard to get in the most subtle fashion. Something about Zayn seemed really cool and fascinating, and I wanted to get to know him more, no matter what Harry's warning was. But I didn't want to seem fangirl-y. I was the opposite. So, I'm doing what I know best. Playing games.

Zayn had a look of almost anger, which he quickly changed into a look of obvious fake cheerfulness.

"Oh yeah, Harry's a nice boy." Emphasis on the word boy. I was winning.

. "What's that supposed to mean?" I leaned in a little bit to face closer to Zayn. We were looking each other straight in the eye.

"It means that most girls want a man, not an immature boy." Zayn said with seriousness, but there was a glimmer of playfulness in his eyes that made it hard not to laugh.

"Well, every girl wants something different."

"And what do you want, Lindsay?" This time, Zayn wasn't joking around. The whole area around us got eerily quiet and serious.

I thought for a second.

"I want my bottle of water." I took it of his hand, our fingers brushing together. There were sparks. But different sparks than the ones I felt with Harry. These sparks with Zayn were more... lusty.

I took a giant swig of cold water before I could think about anything else. Zayn was still looking at me, waiting for a real response.

"Well..." He started.

"Well what?" I asked.

"Are you going to answer my question seriously?"

"What's the rush, Zayn? We've known each other for what, twenty minutes? There's time to figure that out. Why don't we just start by figuring each other out."

"Is that a challenge?" Zayn asked, winking, and taking the seat across from me.

And for the next hour, that's what we did. Getting to know each other. Like in kindergarten.

"What's your favorite color?" He asked.

"Depends on the day. Today, it's blue."

"That's not a good enough answer- do you know how many shades of blue there are in the world?"

"Do you know how girlish you sound right now?"

And then we would laugh, and get serious again.

"What's your favorite movie?"

"What's your number one most played song in your iTunes library?"

"What's your favorite television show?"

On and on it went, never-ending, but in the best way possible. It wasn't boring, it was interesting. Zayn was totally different. Totally unexpectedly amazing. I was connecting with him in a way I hadn't connected since the senior from my past.

Finally, a question I knew was coming finally came.

"What's your favorite act on X Factor?"

"Do you want me to be honest?" I asked cautiously.

"Have you not been honest this entire time?"

"It's not that, I just don't want your feelings to be hurt."

"They won't be."

"Cher. She's great."

Zayn coughed. "Cher?"

"What's wrong with Cher?"

"Nothing, except that she's an obnoxious, self-absorbed little girl."

I gasped. "Bull!"

"No, it's true. I've had to spend so much time with her in the past couple weeks. If I see her again I might have to bash my head into the wall."

"Oh, don't say that."

"It's true! She doesn't care about anyone else but herself."

"Well, maybe you don't know her well." I came to my favorite's defense.

"Trust me, Linds, I know her well enough to say what I said with compete honesty."

I sighed. "She seems so nice."

"People are always different than they seem."

I didn't say anything to this, and after a few awkward seconds, Zayn cleared his throat, obviously ready to move on to a lighter and less dramatic subject.

"So, whose your favorite One Direction boy?"

"I don't know how to answer this without your opinion on me changing..."

"Just tell me!"

"No."

"Plleeaaaaaassee?" Zayn gave me puppy dog eyes, and something in me softened, as corny as that sounds.

"You. You were always my favorite." I stared at the ground. This simple confession suddenly felt strangely heavy and emotional.

Zayn didn't say anything, and I looked up at him, my cheeks blushed.

"I told you your opinion would change." I said quietly.

Zayn shook his head as though to clear his head. "Wait, what?"

"I said, I told you your opinion would change!"

"That's bull! How would it have changed?"

"Cause now you think I'm an obsessive fan."

"Not at all."

"Really?"

"Actually, I was thinking that you're one of the most interesting girls I've ever met in my life."

I couldn't say anything. I was starstruck. And blown away. This was happening to me?

Before I could respond or do anything, I felt Zayn's finger pulling my cheek up gently. I looked into his eyes and realized our faces were barely an inch away from each other. Just one move and our lips would be-

"Hey, guys!" An all-too familiar voice suddenly screamed from the doorway.

Harry.

I jerked my head away from Zayn's too quickly and hit it on something hard behind me.

"Ow! Shit! That hurts!" I grabbed the back of my head with my two hands and closed my eyes.

"Is she okay?" Harry yelled. I heard his footsteps running towards me and I kept my eyes closed.

"Are you an idiot?" Zayn whispered to Harry angrily.

"I just wanted to see if she wanted to see us practice?"

"She has a name, it's Lindsay! And we was busy!" Zayn explained, quieter than before, but also significantly ruder.

I opened my eyes and looked up; they didn't notice. Harry looked upset. He was the youngest of the boys and obviously the most impressionable. He actually looked really sad, and I felt badly. I knew I might regret this later, but I was such a softie-

"Zayn, can you go get me some ice, maybe? I hit my head pretty hard." I feigned a smile.

"...Yeah, sure." Zayn looked at me, a little worriedly, and then gave Harry a pointed glare before he left the room.

"I'm really sorry, Lindsay, I didn't know I was interrupting anything and I definitely didn't know you were going to injure yourself-"

"Don't worry! I just bonked my head a little. I'll be fine."

"I still feel badly."

"Why? It's pure accident."

"Can I make it up to you?"

"Uhhh..."

"Oh come on. I just want to take you to a little coffee shop around the corner."

"I thought you wanted me to see y'all practice?"

"That too."

"Uh, Harry, I'm pretty sure Zayn wouldn't be happy..."

"Forget him. Can I be really honest with you? He just wants to get in your pants."

"Excuse me?"

"It's true. It's all he ever does. He just wants to get with girls to add to his number. It happened with girls back home, it happened with Cher, now it'll be you."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It hurt just to listen to this.

"Harry, you need to back it up. I don't think Zayn means any wrong. We were having good conversation. And Cher? What?"

"Listen, I don't have time to explain this right now. Zayn's going to come back in about 20 seconds, and we'll both be screwed. You have my number. After you see us practice, I think you'll be going home. We'll meet up sometime later this week in secret, and I can explain everything you need or want to hear, okay?"

"I'm so confused."

"That's okay. Everything will make sense in time."

At that exact moment, Zayn walked in, a bag of carefully packaged ice in his hand.

"I'm sorry about that."

I took the ice and pressed it against the tender bump that was growing on the back of my head.

"It'll be fine by tomorrow."

"To the practice room?" Harry proposed, extending a hand to me, and then remembering, removed it. Zayn took my hand and led me to the practice room, following Harry, who couldn't help but take a few looks back at us and our interlocked fingers.

At the practice room, the other boys hooted and hollered at Zayn, while Harry just looked forlornly, and I couldn't help but feel like in 2 hours I had already broken someone's heart.

The boys got up on stage, and started singing a slow, British song. A ballad.

But the thing was, I couldn't hear the words. I could just feel the eyes. 4 eyes, 2 pairs. Just on me, singing to me, trying to persuade me to go their way.

I had no idea what I was going to do.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The next few things that happened were uneventful. My dad met up with me while One Direction was practicing and told me it was time to go. After giving them all a round of applause, hugs, and thank yous, we left the theatre. There was absolutely no closure with Zayn or with Harry, and the ride back home was silent for the first time ever. Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Harry's face, or Zayn's. My father finally broke the silence as we rounded the corner to the house.

"How was it, Linds?"

I thought for a second before replying.

"It was great, Dad. I had a lot of fun. Thanks so much. I really appreciate it."

My dad lit up like a lightbulb. "I'm glad." He said with a smile.

We walked back into the house, and I bounded the stairs to my bedroom. I dumped my bags contents on my bed, looking for my Chapstick, when I realized the light on my Blackberry was blinking, signaling that I had a message waiting. I typed in my password hastily and opened up Blackberry Messenger. I had two requests waiting, one from Zayn and one from Harry. I accepted Harry's first, hoping it would make Zayn a little jealous. Five minutes later, as I was preparing to accept Zayn's request, my phone made a Ping! Noise, and a message popped up on my screen.

Harry: Lindsay! This is urgent x

I stared at my phone, x-ed out the message, and went back to Zayn's request. Again, my phone pinged and there was another message from Harry.

Harry: Have you forgotten BBM tells you when someone's read your message? Haha please reply x

Quickly, I accepted Zayn before Harry could send me another distracting BBM, and then went to my conversation page with Harry.

Lindsay: I'm here...

At the same time, Zayn sent me a message and Harry replied to mine.

Zayn: Hi babe, had a great time getting to know you today. Can we meet later? How long are you here for?

Harry: I know I made a bad impression on you today, but I can already tell that you're different from the other girls, and I don't want you to be treated like you're one of them. Zayn isn't interested in you, he's interested in what you have. I know I sound awful but I need to explain. In person. When are you free? How long are you here for?

I gulped, and replied to Zayn first.

Lindsay: Great to meet you too! 3 more weeks... gotta make the best of it...

I was trying to be coy about it, not showing too much or too little interest. Life is so much more satisfying if you make people work for what they want. I shook my head and typed a response for Harry.

Lindsay: Like I said, I don't think that's a good idea.

Ping! Zayn replied, while Harry was busy typing a long message back.

Zayn: How about tomorrow? I know a great cafe...

Lindsay: I'm busy. Day after?

Zayn: Perfect. I'll pick you up at 2 x ;)

I gave Zayn my information and x-ed out the chat box, smiling to myself. Like I said, make them work for it. Playing hard to get was my best game.

Ping! Harry: Please, just hear me out and if I'm being a dick you can leave. Let me take you for coffee early tomorrow morning. No one will have to know x

Lindsay: I don't drink coffee...

Harry: Tea? ;)

Lindsay: ...Why not. But no one will know. I mean no one.

I couldn't resist. He was being really sweet, and I might as well hear him out.

Harry: Great! I'll pick you up at 9? x

Lindsay: No, earlier, 8. I don't want people to see.

Harry: Scared to take our relationship public? Hahahaa x

Lindsay: Watch yourself.

Secretly, I was laughing. It was cute. I usually went for cheeky guys, and this sense of humor was right up my alley. But I had to pretend I wasn't feeling it.

Harry: I'm sorry, I really am. I don't want you to think of me badly. I was really lucky to meet you. I honestly want to impress you the way Zayn did. I know he's a ladies man or whatever but you could do so much better. I'm not implying that I'm better but I think you know what I mean.

I read the message and didn't know how to reply. Before I knew it, there was another message from Harry.

Harry: This is why I need to see you in person. You think I'm an asshole but I'm just trying to say how I feel. I'm bad at this.

Lindsay: Bad at what?

Harry: Talking to girls, you know, seriously. I'm great at being cheeky and flirty but terrible at being able to get my point across. I'm sorry.

I couldn't help but feel bad, at least a little bit. He was trying to be personal and deep and I was denying it all.

Lindsay: Hey, don't think like that. I don't think you're being an asshole. But it's late. I'm going to bed but I'll see you in the morning.

Harry: Alright, sweet dreams :) I don't want to seem too eager but I'm excited to see you tomorrow. Really excited. But goodnight, Lindsay.

I didn't reply. I was confused and I didn't want to say the wrong thing. So I slipped on an old tank top and a pair of boxer shorts and pulled my hair into a ballerina bun, turned my phone off, set an alarm, and crawled into bed, falling asleep the minute my head hit the pillow.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I woke up to the sound of my alarm beeping like mad at 6:50 AM. I had exactly one hour and ten minutes until Harry came, unless he was the type to come early and impress, which I had a feeling he would be one of those boys. So I jumped in the shower and cranked the hot water. I washed my hair with my best smelling shampoo, shaved my legs, and popped out to blow out my hair. When I was done, it was pin straight blonde silk that almost reached my waist.

From there I ran to my vanity mirror to put on my makeup. Even though I was already putting in more effort into how I looked than normal, I didn't want to look overdone and too available, so I just put concealer on the dark circles under my eyes, a little bit of natural pink blush and black mascara on my top lashes. For my lips, I used my everyday Cherry Chapstick.

Once I was done with my makeup, I had 30 minutes to find an outfit. I stuck with a simple pair of light blue washed jean leggings, a black henley top with silver buttons and my favorite pair of black military style lace up leather boots. Over the top of my henley I wore the same trench jacket I wore yesterday. I packed my tote bag with my Blackberry, gum, and my wallet and went downstairs to wait for Harry. I saw my dad downstairs, eating a bowl of cereal.

"You look like you're going somewhere!" My dad exclaimed, jumping up from the table.

"Yeah, I am."

"Well, where?"

"Remember, um, Harry? You know, Harry Styles? Like, One Direction?"

"Of Course..."

"We're going to tea. Really fast. It's no big."

My dad looked at my with a surprised look, like he had a lot of questions. But he knew I wasn't going to answer them.

"I'll be back in an hour or two. I'll text, don't worry."

"Alright sweeties. Text me." As he kissed me on the cheek, there was a knock on the door. I went to look through the peephole even though I knew who it would be. There was Harry, beaming to himself for no reason. He looked like a little child, his curls perfectly undone and his cheeks with a natural flush. I didn't answer the door right away because I overheard him talking and I wanted to hear what he was sating.

"Hi Lindsay, … No, that's too casual. Hey Linds, how are you? … No, that's too eager! Ugh, this is hard."

"I can make it easier." I opened the door and said confidently, despite my wanting to keep this from going too far or too friendly.

"Lindsay!" He gave me a big hug, before letting go and blushing.

"Did you hear any of that..." He whispered, looking sheepish.

"Yep. But it's okay. I thought it was cute." I smiled back at him. I couldn't help it. His smile was contagious. Harry beamed and grabbed my hand, helping my down my front stairs. I let go at the quickest chance and got into his car, a really nice BMW.

"I like your car," I said, looking at Harry. He had just gotten into the drivers seat. He was wearing a pair of skinny khaki pants, fancy sneakers, a white polo and a black double breasted jacket with gold buttons.

"Thanks. You look beautiful today. Am I allowed to say that?"

"Not really." I smirked, and Harry smiled a closed-lips smile.

"The coffee shop is only 3 minutes away. We could've walked, but it's cold and I didn't want you to get sick."

"How considerate. How do you know this place so well?"

Harry took a moment to give me a confused look, and then focused on the road again. "You didn't know I'm from this town?"

I did a double take. "Excuse me?"

"Born and raised! X Factor's my first time away from home!"

"You're joking. You're from this tiny boring town?"

"Of course. That's obviously why I'm such a boring person." Harry winked at me, and then pulled into the nonexistant parking space at the coffee shop. He got out and opened my door for me.

"Thank you, Mr. Gentleman."

I followed him quietly into the coffee shop, where we sat down at a small booth in the corner. He ordered an espresso while I ordered a peppermint tea.

"Why don't you drink coffee?" He asked innocently.

"Why are we here?" I said seriously, wanting to get to the point.

Harry took a breath in and began.

"Basically, I'm here to be a superhero." He grinned, and as I looked at him crossly, he started again. "No, I'm serious. When I walked through the door yesterday and saw you with Zayn and the way he was looking at you, I knew he was planning on making you his next project. He's a major player, Lindsay. He'll make a girl feel like she's special and perfect, and then drop her on her ass. He did it to Cher. He bought her flowers, took her on great dates, gave her jewelry. After they had hooked up, it was over. No more romance. She cried for a whole week, and I was there to comfort her. Now, they don't talk. It's really awkward in the house because everyone knows but no one wants to confront the situation. He also did it to a fan, but I think he felt sorta bad about that. And he brags about all the girls back home he's been with. I think his number is at like, minimally, 20. And I'm not just talking about kissing. It's bad, Lindsay. I don't want you to get hurt. So that's how I'm a superhero. I can tell the future." He smiled, slightly. "Do you see where I'm coming from?"

The waitress came with our drinks at that moment, so I had the excuse of sipping on my tea for a minute before replying. Harry didn't rush me, he just watched through patient eyes.

"But Zayn said-"

"That Cher's obnoxious? Narcissistic? He says that about every girl he gets with and then dumps. Do you think he's going to spill all the secrets about his relationships to his next target?"

I took another large sip.

"I don't really know what to say." I said finally.

"How anticlimactic." Harry said, with a smile, before getting serious again. "I don't want you to think I'm pushing myself on you at all. I think you're a really great girl-"

"You barely know me" I whispered.

"You're right. But I know that you're breathtakingly beautiful. And that you're tough on the outside, but a really softie on the inside. And that you don't jump to judgements. And that you're really smart- too smart to play with fire."

"I'm guessing Zayn and fire are synonymous in this situation?" I said, smiling down at my tea.

"Exactly. Lindsay, I'm not asking you to get with me over Zayn. I'm just asking you to not get with Zayn, because he's just going to break your heart. And maybe give me a chance. That's all I'm asking."

I took a breath in. "I'm not going to go into details. But I was in love once, and it was dangerous. A bad situation. And I don't want to get hurt again so I'm going to trust you because it sounds like you know what you're talking about."

Harry cupped my hands in his from across the table. His hands were large and warm over mine and it felt good. Natural.

"Thanks, Lindsay. I swear you won't regret it. It's the right thing to do." He looked at the waitress to ask for the check, then looked back at me.

"That took a lot shorter than I expected." He said, sadly.

"I gave up easier than I normally do. I should probably get home though."

"But... I'm not sure if I'm ready to give you up quite so soon." He said with a smirk. "Do you wanna ride around the village? See what there is? It's not very busy but it's quite scenic and pretty."

I thought for a moment. I didn't have to be home for another hour and a half.

"Sure, why not?"

Harry grinned, his smile bright and white and supremely happy. He jumped up from the table and took my hand, and I didn't pull it away. We walked straight to the car and as he did at the beginning of the date, Harry opened my car door. I jumped in and sat down, weirdly eager to see the town.

"You ready?" Harry asked, putting a hand on my knee. I looked into Harry's eyes, and realized that I might actually be falling for him, less than 24 hours after I thought I'd been falling for Zayn.

"For sure." I linked my fingers through his, and rested our two hands back on my knee where it had been before. And we drove into the town, two fools falling for each other.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

After three hours of driving around the town, giggling, holding hands, and telling stories, Harry and I were back where we started, parked in my fathers driveway. Except this time, I was trying to figure out the right way to say goodbye. It's funny, how just a few hours ago, I was hoping I would get to say goodbye quickly and painlessly, without worrying about ever seeing him again. But now, I was struggling for words, because all I wanted was to be able to hang out with Harry all day, doing what we had been doing.

Harry just looked into my eyes, his green-blue eyes looked strong with emotion.

"I don't know how the words to tell you how much I enjoyed today." I gulped. His words were strong with emotion, and obviously trying not to give away too much, trying not to scare me away.

"You know I'm a tough cookie to crack, right?" I asked, staring at the ground of his car, but still gripping his hand tightly.

"I'm gonna try." Harry said, with a closed mouth smile. "You know I really like you." he added. It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"Yeah." I replied. He looked over to question me, but instinct took over. My hands hooked into his hair gently, and our mouths touched. He responded, putting one hand on my waist. We sat there, in his car, kissing until he finally pulled away, smiling and a little flushed, his curls in different directions.

"I should go." I said, smiling a little bit, not wanting to give away too much of what I was feeling. I opened the car door and got out, smoothing out my jacket.

"Lindsay-" Harry said, moving his hand to stop the door from closing completely. "I'll, um, miss you." He seemed lost for words.

"You know I like you back." I said, repeating what he had said earlier, slowly closing the car door and staring into his eyes through the glass window, blowing him a kiss and then turning away, walking through to my front door. Naturally, Harry waited to start his car and drive away until he saw that I was safely in my house with the door locked.

I stood by the door, watching the car slowly roll away, when my dad crept up behind me.

"You look rather happy" he said, smiling.

"I, um, am. Yeah. I'm really happy. It was a lot of fun."

"He seems to be a nice boy. Don't go breaking his heart now" my dad said with a wink, roaming off into the kitchen. "you want anything to eat?"

"Nah, I'm good, I ate." I lied, venturing up the stairs to my bedroom. Once I got there, I changed into a pair of loose, worn in light pink sweatpants and a black tank top with my hair in a messy bun. I turned on my Blackberry, knowing what I had to do.

_Lindsay: hey Zayn, I'm sorry, I gotta cancel our plans, I have something to do that I forgot about. Apologies._

Zayn was typing for a bit, then sent a reply.

_Zayn: ok x_

Not exactly a positive reply, but my mind was on other things. Like my kiss with Harry. Call me crazy, but when our lips touched, I honestly felt sparks on my tongue. It was incredible. Like instant chemistry. I'd only felt like this once in my life, and somehow I doubted I would feel like this with Zayn anyway. This time it was different. Suddenly, my phone vibrated and distracted me from my thoughts.

_Harry: hey love, you wouldn't happen to know why Zayn just punched a hole in my bedroom wall, right?x_

How did Zayn know? He must suspect something. Before I could reply, I got another alarming BBM from Harry.

_Harry: Louis ratted me out and told Zayn I was going to meet up with you, and now Zayn thinks I'm trying to steal you from me. might not be pretty x_

_Lindsay: oh god. I am so sorry, I wouldve never done anything Id know something like this would happen..._

_Harry: haha I don't think you can help it. You have men falling all over you, it's because you're too beautiful for anyone to resist x_

I smiled despite myself. Harry had a way of making me feel special, even when I should feel guilty. I decided to take matters into my own hands. To Harry I sent:

_Lindsay: hold on, I'm going to try to help_

To Zayn I sent:

_Lindsay: listen Zayn I don't know why you're so angry with Harry, he was just showing me around the town and introducing me to the area, so I wouldn't get lost. Calm down haha..._

_Zayn: don't be a liar._

_Lindsay: ?_

_Zayn: I know he told you lies. And now you're lying too._

Now I was straight up angry. Zayn was a bad character.

_Lindsay: LOL to how I thought you were a nice guy. Guess you're just another asshole. You should learn to accept when people give you chances, because pretty soon you're gonna run out of them. Bye._

I deleted him from my contact list, and sent the conversation to Harry.

_Harry: you are tough! Good girl, that was so considerate of you. Now he's just mad at himself. He wont talk to anyone. Thank you xxxxx_

_Lindsay: look who the superhero is now ;)_

_Harry: I feel bad, I should be the one rescuing you, not the other way around. :P x_

_Lindsay: sexist much?_

_Harry: I do like sandwiches xxxxx_

I laughed so hard tears came out.

_Lindsay: say that again and you're getting nothing, ever. You should know my sandwiches are absolutely delicious._

_Harry: make me one tomorrow, and come by me and the boys house xx?_

_Lindsay: but what about Zayn..._

_Harry: we'll steer clear of him. I think he made plans to go clubbing with Louis anyway... Just us and a movie? xx_

_Lindsay: what do I wear?_

_Harry: nothing? Hahaha I'm joking, anything you want. You look stunning in everything xx_

_Lindsay: pick me up at 6 :)_

With that, I turned off my my phone, went downstairs, and watched reruns of XFactor, just to hear his voice. I already missed him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

It was finally the next morning. I had woken up at 9am, unusually early for me during vacation, out of excitement and nerves. I took a bubble bath for an hour, went downstairs, ate a bagel with cream cheese and some fruit, then went upstairs again, pacing the room and trying to find something to do to pass the time. By this time, it was only 2 in the afternoon, and Harry wasn't due for another 4 hours. So I went back to the bathroom to shave my legs again, and give myself a small facial, which didn't take up much time. So I turned on XFactor on my laptop while I did my hair in the signature wavy and beach waves and then brushed it to a side ponytail. After that, I started my makeup: a light layering of concealer and powder, some blush, mascara and eyeliner on my top lashes, and a pink gloss on my lips. Then I went to my closet and pinked out my outfit: black leggings with a slightly oversized rose pink sweater with a v-neck. For shoes, I chose my favorite tall black Uggs with some knee high cream colored socks underneath. I finally finished at 5pm, entirely too early. I went downstairs to watch some television. I came across a British version of Jersey shore and found myself totally absorbed until I felt a hand touch my face. I jumped up in shock and looked up. Of course, it was only Harry.

"You should really keep your door locked, love." He removed his hand from my cheek and replaced it with his lips.

Harry looked relaxed and genuinely happy. His curls were brushed out carefully, and he was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a plain white tee, with a green and white varsity sweatshirt over the top.

"And you should really learn to not sneak up on people!" I said in return, taking the hand that he just dropped from my face. Harry helped pull me up from my seat and stared in disdain at the TV screen.

"Geordie Shore? You watch this?"

"Its time consuming!"

"I would've pegged you for a BBC News kind of girl" Harry said with a wink. I fake-gasped.

"You think I'm boring?"

"No..." Harry said, grinning from ear to ear. He came closer and went in to give me a bear hug, but then flipped me over his shoulder, Shrek style. My head was dangling near his mouth. He kissed my cheek again, and whispered in my ear,

"You fascinate me."

I grinned as he carried me out my door and all the way to his fancy car, where he deposited me into the passenger seat. When he crawled into the drivers seat, I was cuddled up in a somewhat fetal position. The air was a lot colder than I thought it'd be, and I had horrible goosebumps. Harry looked over at me and realized how cold I was. He shrugged off his sweatshirt and wrapped me in it.

"You realize that it's borderline freezing in this car and we have to drive for a while, right?" I said to him, upset that he'd be turned to a block of ice while I was comfortably snug.

"The heater will kick in soon. And I'm a manly man. You're a delicate woman."

"Again with the sexism?"

"Well, I figured that you'll be making me a sandwich in approximately an hour, we might as well stick to this theme."

I grinned, intertwining my fingers with his, looking up into his eyes.

"What?" he asked me, looking down at me while also trying to drive.

"I'm just happy." I said, looking out the window. I felt happy too, truly. Harry was one of those guys where everything you did with them felt special.

Harry gave my hand a squeeze. "Me too, really. You don't even know."

We sat there in silence for a little. But it wasn't the awkward kind of silence that people dread, the kind of silence where theres nothing left to say and you're just left there trying to think of anything possible. I'm talking about the kind of silence that makes you think of all the good things that are happening and will be happening. The kind of silence where you're allowed to just sit and look at the other person and just reflect on how out-of-this-world-happy you are.

We got to the boys house within minutes after that. It was large and made of stone, at least 3 stories tall, with lots of windows. Out back, there was a pool and a playground, with a nice patio. Harry came around and opened my car door, then took my hand and drew my body closer. As he put his hands on my hipbones, I put mine on the back of his neck and kissed him. Our bodies were so close, I could feel his heat radiating on me. My heart was beating so fast, he could probably hear it. We stood there, making out for at least 5 minutes before I felt 2 bodies smashing us into a group hug. There, singing _Can You Feel The Love Tonight_, was Niall and Liam, swaying to the rhythm of their little song, and I was laughing so hard, my stomach was cramping.

"Nice to see ya, Lindsay" Niall said, pulling me from the group hug and giving me a personal one. "Harry can't shut up about you" he whispered, winking at Harry, then disappearing inside the huge house.

Liam turned to face me. "What movie are we watching tonight, folks?" He laughed when he saw Harry's expression. "Kidding, mate, kidding. Have fun kiddos."

"Wait, Liam, when are... They... Supposed to come back?"

Liam paused. "Not till late, they went out to some clubs and pubs. They were both planning on getting really smashed. Idiots." Liam looked a little concerned. "I'll probably go pick em up around 2 or 3 to make sure they don't get themselves in too much trouble."

"Thanks a lot, Liam." Harry said, and then turned round back to face me, and kissed my forehead.

"Ready to go?" I nodded and he walked me inside.

_2 hours later..._

Harry and I were sitting on a sofa, watching the Notebook (corny, but cute.) My feet were dangling off the end of the couch, and my head was perched on a pillow that was set on Harry's lap. We had a little game going, every time there was a kiss in the movie, we would kiss. We were just getting to every girls favorite part: the long kiss in the rain, when the door busted open and in came Zayn.

"Hey hey! Why don't we all take a look at the lovely couple! Looks like Louis and Liam aren't the only ones with girls now! Congrats guys!" Zayn came closer to me, obviously piss drunk. His breath reeked of whiskey, or rum, or maybe even both. He looked me up and down, and I jerked up from where I was laying and unintentionally started leaning in towards Harry, as if I could cower behind him.

I've never seen Harry look so pissed off. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Zayn laughed bitterly at this. "Its my house too. And Louis didn't want to drink, so we went out separate ways. I decided to come back here to watch this little show... We could've had this, Lindsay!" He made a gesture at Harry and I. "What makes Harry better, huh? What makes him more worthy than me? I could've given you more, if you know what I'm saying." He winked at me. Harry stood up to stand in front of me, but Zayn had already gotten too close to me. I stood up to walk away when Zayn took my face in his hands in a way that was probably supposed to be sweet, but was just rough. I tried to yank away but he was strong, even when completely intoxicated. Before I knew it, Harry had ripped me away from Zayn and had flung me backwards onto a couch behind us. With one loud pop noise, Harry smacked Zayn in the jaw. Zayn was down. Still awake, and not unconscious, but down. Liam came running out of the kitchen and grabbed Zayn, supporting him and walked him up the stairs, asking no questions. I was curled in a ball on the couch, trying to forget what had just happened, and Harry was left just staring at the floor, trying to absorb what had just happened.

"Lindsay.."

I looked up at him. "Do you want me to go home? You don't have to worry, I can get my dad or Walter to pick me up or something." I rushed to find my bag and my phone.

"Wait, Lindsay, I am so sorry. I know you probably never want to see me again, but I just want you to know that the past couple days have been-"

I was shellshocked. "Even after I screwed everything up between you and Zayn, you still want to see me?"

He seemed just as surprised as me. "Even after I've ruined your entire rest of the vacation by making you be a part of that, you still want to see ME?"

I smiled. "Yes. I really do."

Harry sighed in relief. "Thank God. Im really not ready to say goodbye yet. I've barely finished saying hello."

And with that, we joined hands, and walked up to Harry's bedroom, where we kissed, and ended up falling asleep next to each other.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Two bliss-filled weeks had passed, and Harry and I had only gotten closer. After the Zayn incident, we had been careful to only stop by the house when we were sure Zayn wasn't there. We spent most of our time driving around Cheshire and just talking, cuddling, and yes, making out. He was unlike other guys I'd ever met before. The thing about Harry that I loved so much was that he didn't ever care what we were doing; he just wanted to be with me. Whether it was in my kitchen watching me consume his pancakes (which were very good, by the way) in my pajamas with no makeup on, or at night at a fancy restaurant. He was very bent on being courteous, and always had to pay, hold doors open, and let me go first, which was annoying some times, but often refreshing.

Along with this, and especially after what happened with Zayn, I had learned that Harry was fiercely loyal and intensely protective, but not in a clingy way. If Harry had wanted to go a restaurant, he would drive me there. If we got there and there was a chance of us getting separated, or too many paps and fans, he would take me somewhere else, no matter how much he had wanted to go to this restaurant in the first place. I loved knowing there was someone who honestly cared about my well-being.

Harry was over at my house with me on Christmas Eve. We were sitting in one of the studies on the higher floor near my bedroom, sitting at the window seat while I was doing English homework and Harry was just looking out the window when I closed my book, wanting to ask him a question.

"You realize that we have to say goodbye in a week, right?"

Harry's face dropped. "Its Christmas Eve, Zee. We shouldn't be thinking about that." Harry was using his personal nickname for me, the one he usually used when I was stressed out. Obviously this was one of those moments.

"But we're gonna have to do something about it soon, right? Cause it's only a week. A week! A week is so short."

"I know it is." He whispered, looking fiercely into my eyes. He could see the tears forming. "But if we think about that now, it'll just make us sadder. I don't know about you, but even touching on that subject is too much for me. I can't even begin to think about it. I don't plan on ever saying a full goodbye, Lindsay. For me, it'll always be a 'see you later,' or a 'until we meet again.' You'll never fully leave me. Sounds corny, like something out of Dear John, remember when we watched that? Anyways, like something out of Dear John, it took me two weeks to fall in love with you. I've never ever felt this way, and I never want to stop feeling like this." He looked to me as he reached into his back pocket. The look on my face must've been a picture, because he broke away from his intense and fixed passion to earnestly laugh.

"I swear, it's not an engagement ring. I have a whole other speech for that." He grinned and handed me a soft, velvet blue jewelry box. "Just something I came across and I thought you'd like. My excuse was that it was a Christmas gift, but it's more of a personal gift. Something I hope you'll wear and think of me." He looked at my face, nervous as I opened the box.

Inside the box, carefully packaged, was a dainty silver chain with an infinity symbol. On the clasp, so tiny you could barely see it, was an L and an H engraved in a simple cursive font. It was perfect. I could feel the tears welling up and threatening to pour over. Harry wordlessly took the necklace and put it on me, rather gracefully although I thought his large hands would have problems with the tiny clasp.

"It's so perfect," was all I could muster before my crystal tears fell, ruining my makeup. Harry just smiled and kissed one away, then kissed the tip of my nose, and then finally my lips.

"I love you. It's crazy, but I do." he whispered in my ear, and I smiled, cherishing his words and locking them up in a mental safe.

"I love you too," I said, as I kissed him again and wrapped myself up into his warm, safe arms.

_The Next Day._

I woke up at 7:00 in the morning, with my dad calling me from downstairs.

"Lindsay, darling, it's Christmas! Come open your gifts!"

I looked around, and Harry wasn't with me. _That's weird.. I could've sworn I fell asleep with him last night. _

As I stepped out of the bed, a folded piece of stationary paper fell out as well. I picked it up, and opened it up.

_Dear Lindsay,_

_Merry Christmas, love. I would have texted you, but this was more romantic. I'm sorry I left without telling you, but I had to leave last night and spend the day with the boys and my family. We're having a Christmas party tonight at 5; it's our traditional celebration. My family will be there and I want you to meet them very much. I hope you're able to come. Have an amazing day. Call me later. I love you._

_Always, Harry_

I smiled at the note, running my hand over it and thinking about him sitting at my desk with a little pen in his big hand, sticking his tongue out in deep thought.

"Lindsay, come on dear!" My dad yelled from downstairs. I stayed in my pajama pants and one of Harry's white tee shirts and ran down, worried about what I was going to get this Christmas.

_Some Hours Later_

It was nearing 5 in the afternoon, and I was sitting in my room, on my bed, staring at a stack of gifts in the corner. For the first time in my life, I had gotten gifts I actually liked. My father must have spent ages, and thousands of pounds, on my gifts. I got everything a girl could ever want: gift cards, money, more clothes than I could ever imagine, jewelry, electronics, accessories, everything. But the most sentimental go my father got me was a silver locket with two pictures in it. On the left was a picture of us from childhood, and on the other side was a picture we had just taken the other day. It was a candid shot that Harry had taken: I was laughing, and my father was kissing my cheek. I looked squinty and gross without my makeup, and the photo was a little blurry, but it meant the world to me. Throughout these past few weeks, my father and I had grown closer than ever. I attached the locket around my neck to let it hang close to Harry's infinity necklace: the two most important people in my life close to my heart.

I heard a vibration and looked at my new Blackberry and saw a message from Harry.

_Harry: Would you like me to pick you up?_

_Lindsay: I'm okay, I still need to change, I'm sorry._

_Harry: it's no problem love. My family is so excited to meet you._

_Lindsay: I can't wait either. I'll see you in 20?_

_Harry: I'll be waiting :)_

I rummaged through my pile of new clothes and picked out a brand new jade green one shouldered silk dress with a black skinny belt. It hugged my curves, and was Harry's favorite color. I paired it with a pair of black patent leather pumps that gave me height. I tossed my blonde hair into a mid ponytail that cascaded into waves down my back, with a few pieces of my fringe coming out the side. I did heavy black eyeliner on the top lashes along with a pair of false lashes and everything else was pretty plain.

"Daddy, I'm going to Harry's family's Christmas party, I'll be home by 11 probably. Is that okay?"

"Of course. Tell my future son in law I say Merry Christmas" said my father with a wink.

With that, I walked outside, grabbed my dad's car keys and started driving towards Harry's.

**Harry's POV**

I stood outside on my stoop, waiting for Lindsay. I already knew she would look stunning, she always did. Although it had only been a day since I'd last seen her, I missed her. Whenever I wasn't around her, I felt like a piece of me was gone. It was crazy how much I felt for her when I had only known her 2 weeks.

A Mercedes Benz came rolling into my driveway and I instantly knew it was her. I hurried to run over to her side so I could open her car door for her. She stepped out of her dad's car looking absolutely radiant, and I couldn't help but wrap my arms around her waist. It was a natural movement now, and we fit together like puzzle pieces.

"You look so beautiful." I mumbled into her ear, making her blush. She smiled her little half smile and turned away to look at the ground.

"Let me meet your family now" she said quietly, threading her fingers through mine. We walked together to my house, where the music was pulsing already.

When we walked in, I could feel everyone's eyes on her. My family, my friends, but most alarmingly, Zayn's. Looking over at Zayn, I realized his eyes were on her face, trying to read her expression. I walked her immediately to my family, so he would quit it. He knew he screwed up.

_Flashback_

The day after I punched Zayn, the house was a mess. Lindsay had left, but the boys obviously hadn't. I was just sitting at the breakfast table eating cereal with Liam and Niall when Zayn came stomping down the stairs with massive bruising on his chin.

"Listen, Zayn, can we talk?" I asked him, getting up from my seat. Zayn stared at me in disdain.

"Are you serious?"

I looked around, and the rest of the boys cleared out of the room.

"Zayn, I'm sorry I hit you, but the way you acted was totally out of line."

Zayn sighed. "I know, but I was drunk. Anyways, you breaking the guy code was totally out of line. You knew I liked her, you knew she was mine, and there was no question about it. But you fed her lies and got her to go along with you, and that's not cool."

I could feel my blood boiling. "But you didn't like her! You just wanted to get with her, like you've done with all the other fans, and then be done with her. You've done it twenty times over and we all know this wasn't any different."

"BUT IT WAS, HARRY." Zayn screamed at me, his face turning red. "It was different, and you had NO way of knowing that." He knocked a chair over in fury; them went back upstairs, making as much noise as he could.

"Well, that went well..." Niall said awkwardly, looking around and trying to make a joke.

And since then, I hadn't talked to Zayn.

_3 Hours Later_

**Lindsay's POV**

I had met Harry's family and his close friends, and they were all lovely. The music was pulsing, and Harry and I had been dancing together and having a good time when Zayn tapped me on the shoulder. Harry seemed to freeze.

"Lindsay, can I speak to you for a second?" The little space between his eyebrows was rumpled in contemplation. I looked to Harry, asking him if I should go with my eyes.

"You don't have to ask him, Lindsay. He's not your father." Zayn said, sounding a little bit aggravated.

"Zayn, shut up." I snapped, and Harry looked concerned. His hand was firmly planted on my waist with no intention of removal. Zayn looked pleadingly and apologetically at me, and I pried Harry's fingers from my waist. I looked up into his eyes.

"Two minutes, that's it." I went off with Zayn, with Harry's eyes on us every step of the way.

"Zayn, make it quick." I said curtly, wanting this to be over as quickly as possible. I could feel Harry's nerves from across the room.

"I'm sorry for everything. So sorry. I know I screwed up. But give me another chance. Please. I can be better than Harry."

"Harry is the one I want. He's got everything I need."

"Well..." I could hear the gears turning in Zayn's brain, like he was searching for the right things to say. "You should know that Harry was planning on ending things with you soon, before you went home. I haven't talked to him myself, but I know he wouldn't tell me the truth either. I've heard him on the phone, and with Liam and Niall. He wasn't feeling it; he just wanted to see how long it would take to get you to fall for him. You know him, ladies man and all. I mean, we're going on tour soon, did you really think he was gonna stay faithful the entire time? As if."

I turned around to look at Harry, who was talking to his mom, but every so often turned over his shoulder to check on me.

"I don't believe you." I mumbled to the ground. But it was pretty obvious that I was lying. I knew everything was too good to be true. Life never worked out so well, it was just impossible.

"And to top it all off, Lindsay, is that he's been hooking up with someone on the side for the past few weeks. See that girl?" Zayn pointed to Harry's sister Gemma's friend, Sophie, a brunette bombshell. She was staring at the boys, who were gathered in a group at this point, and with that, my defenses automatically weakened. I had been cheated on and screwed over in the past, and I sure as hell wasn't gonna go through it again.

What I felt next was not anger, or hurt, or disappointment. I was numb. I just walked quietly but quickly out the door and into my car. I didn't know if anyone was following me; I wasn't looking. I revved the car up and speeded out of the driveway, driving to nowhere. After five minutes, all I could hear was the phone vibrating in the cup holder of the car. I picked it up, checking the messages. Harry had called 8 times. As I was setting the volume to silent, I felt the car skidding, so I grabbed the wheel and turned it with force. Suddenly, my car hit something with a loud bang and I heard a screech of metal. Without thinking, I touched the two chains hanging from my neck.

That was the last thing I remembered before I was knocked unconscious.

_****Note from the author: Thank you for the support! I only just realized how many hits I was getting on 'Totally Wrong for Me' and it means so much to me- this started as a personal story but I love that other people are enjoying it. Spread it around and tell your friends! Comments and rates and everything are much appreciated! From now on there should be a new chapter at least once every week or two! Much love xx**_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

I was woken up by the loud beeping coming from my right side. I turned my head to see what it was, and then I realized I was completely constrained. I was lying in a hospital bed, with tubes coming out of my nose, and my left leg in a large cast. There were needles and IVs in my arm, along with several large and unattractive bruises and cuts. My hospital room was sterile white, with a big window and several chairs. As I attempted to sit up straight, a little nurse ran straight in.

"Dear, don't do that. You'll hurt yourself." She checked the giant beeping machine, which turned out to be a heart monitor.

"Um, excuse me?" I asked politely. The nurse turned around to face me, waiting for my question. "What exactly... Happened?"

The nurse looked at me like I was crazy. "You were in a terrible car accident. You drove into a giant metal pole and smashed your car. You weren't wearing a seatbelt. You flew through the windshield. You bruised almost every part of your body, lost a lot of blood, broke your leg, and a lot of the nerves in your neck are injured, so you've been out cold for the past couple of days. You're quite lucky you didn't die. You were found pretty quickly after the accident, God knows how, you were basically in the middle of nowhere. My guess is that one of your many visitors was following you when you wrecked the car." The nurse looked away, towards the door. "Speaking of visitors, there are a couple outside who are very anxious to see you. Do you feel well enough?" I nodded my head, and as the nurse went outside to collect the first visitor, my stomach churned in nerves.

**Harry's POV**

I'd been sitting for three days in the waiting room of the hospital, waiting for Lindsay to wake up. After I had chased her from my house and found her broken and practically bleeding to death, unconscious, in the middle of the lane, I hadn't been able to sleep, worrying about her. The feeling I had gotten when I had seen her like that was indescribable. I felt like the bigger part of me had died. I was numb and depressed. I had carried her into my car and drove her as fast as I possibly could to the nearest hospital.

The first night, I cried. I cried harder than I ever had in my life. The doctors told Lindsay's father and I that she was going to be fine, but she would need lots of work. Still, I was worried. So I cried silently in a chair while Lindsay's father sat next to me.

The second night, more people came to see if Lindsay was alright. The whole band, minus Zayn, showed up. I didn't know what Zayn had said to Lindsay to make her bolt like that, but I think he knew that I was pissed beyond belief at him, and shouldn't get himself involved any further. I sat on the floor right outside Lindsay's hospital room. My sleep was broken, and my back felt like it was about to break, but I felt better knowing that's was only a few feet away from her, even if we were separated by a solid soundproof wall. I sang a couple bars of each of her favorite songs as if she could hear me. I thought back on all the conversations we'd ever had. I remembered the first time I'd ever seen her, when I knew she'd mean something to me. I remembered the way she twirled her hair around her finger when she was thinking, the way her eyes shined when she was describing her favorite places, and the way she leaned into me when she was scared, but didn't want to say anything about it. And although this probably should've made me even more depressed, it made me feel better. It made me feel as though she was right with me.

Today, when the nurse walked towards us, my heart lifted. Lindsay was finally okay. I could finally see her.

"One visitor at a time. 15 minutes each."

Lindsay's father looked at me. "I know she means a lot to you, but-"

"Of course you should go first, you're her father."

Lindsay's father looked at me, his expression full of gratitude. "Thank you."

Fifteen minutes has never gone by so slowly. Finally, her father walked out with tears in his eyes. I immediately tensed up. "Is she okay?" I asked nervously.

"She's fine, she's fine, I'm just so happy that she's fine." He wiped his eyes and looked back to me. "Just beware, she's on heavy meds."

With that, I walked into the room, and saw Lindsay lying in bed, looking absolutely weak. But when her eyes locked on mine, I stopped breathing. She was still beautiful, even when she looked broken.

"I've been waiting for you." she said, smiling.

**Lindsay's POV**

I felt my lips turn up into a smile through the haze of medications, but I forced myself to frown again, this was serious. I had to break things off with Harry after hearing what Zayn had to say a few days ago.

Harry walked slowly to my bedside, kneeling on the ground near my pillow. I reclined into the bed and turned my head ever so slightly in his direction.

"How are you feeling?" he asked quietly, taking my hand gently.

"Okay. I'm allowed to leave tomorrow. It'll be nice to go home."

"I can't wait." he murmured, drawing circles on my forearms, around the bruises.

"Harry-" was all I could get out before the tears started rolling.

"What's wrong? What can I do? What hurts?" Harry exclaimed, quietly but nervously.

"I don't know if- I'm not sure- I think we should-" I started blabbering, starting sentences but unable to finish them. I didn't know how to say goodbye.

"Lindsay, what are you trying to say?" he grasped my hand harder.

"Harry, if you're cheating on me, or if you've been planning on leaving me all along, can you just break my heart now instead of delaying the process?" I was sobbing. Harry looked absolutely shocked.

"What are you even talking about?"

"Zayn told me. He told me you were planning in dumping me, and that this was all some dumb kind of experiment, and that you were already having sex with Sophie, and-"

Harry put his hand up in a gesture that told me to stop. "He told you that?" I nodded.

"Lindsay, he's lying, he's lying so much, I swear. Sophie is seeing Louis, they've been on dozens of dates, and I've never even talked to the girl, you can ask her yourself. And I already told you that I never want to say goodbye. I would've never given you that necklace if I felt that way. Zayn is jealous. After I punched him and you left, we got into a huge argument about you, and I really pissed him off. He's trying to get you back. I don't know how to prove it to you but I swear-" Harry took in a long breath, and he had tears in his eyes. "Lindsay, I already almost lost you, and it was the hardest thing. If I lost you again, I don't know what I'd do. I honestly don't." Harry was crying now, and he laid his head on his arms, which were resting on my bed. While he cried, I ran my fingers through his knotted, messy curls.

"Harry, how long have you been waiting?" I asked quietly, still detangling his crazy hair.

"Since you got here. Three days. I haven't left the hospital once." His head was still in his hands. I took a look at him. He was still wearing the outfit he had on at the Christmas party, and there were a few blood stains on the front of his fancy button down shirt. There were bags under his eyes, and the delicate white in his eyes was bloodshot. I touched the stains.

"Is that from me?" I whispered, barely audible.

"Yes. I carried you to my car, then drove you here. I was so worried. I cried the whole first night."

I felt the medication kicking in my system. I started to feel sleepy, and I knew I'd be out in a matter of minutes, so I took his chin in my fingers and tilted his face up to mine.

I looked straight in his eyes with the little energy I had left. "Stay with me?" I took his hand and grabbed it tightly, even though he hadn't answered the question yet. Harry didn't even flinch. With tears still on his face, he nestled it next to mine. Before I fell asleep, I felt his lips touch my cheek, and him whispering "I love you" in my ear.

****I was going to put some more drama in this chapter but I just couldn't bear to- me being a hopeless romantic and all. There will be some in the next chapter. What did you think of this chapter? Review and subscribe and such :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

After I had been released from the hospital, I only had two more days to spend with Harry until vacation was over and I had to go back home to New York. I spent the first day cuddling at his house, with the other guys making fun of us. Zayn refused to leave his bedroom. The boys all gave me going away gifts, most of them gag gifts. The best one of all, though, were front row seats to their New York concert in a month.

"They haven't even gone on sale in the States yet" Liam grinned, patting my back.

"Obviously you'll get to go backstage to have some quality makeout time with my boy here afterwards" said Louis, rubbing Harrys cheeks, making us all crack up.

The second day, Harry and I went to a deserted garden-like area and just lay there, talking.

"I don't know how I'm going to go a month without seeing you" I said, sadly.

"I'm going to try and visit you before that..." said Harry, trailing off. But I knew the chances of that were extremely slim.

"A whole month." was all I could say, before I leaned into Harry. He wrapped his arm around me and planted a kiss on the side of my face.

"Well, if we're calling each other every day, or texting, or Skyping, or anything else like that, time will fly."

"I hope so."

Harry looked at me and realized how deeply upset I was. Instead of dwelling more on the subject, he tried cheering me up.

"What do you say to having a party tonight? At our house? A big one, with the whole neighborhood invited. So you can leave with a bang?" Harry grinned. I wasn't much of a party person, but I'd do it for Harry.

"As long as I can spend time with you, I'm happy." I said, smiling into his eyes and squeezing his hand. Harry beamed in return.

"Perfect." Harry leaned in and gently kissed me, and I leaned into him, wanting to spend every second in his arms.

_8 hours later_

Harry and I had decided on every detail. There was going to be a somewhat formal dress code, but casual food, movies and couches, and a dance floor. Almost everyone was coming, including the band, who would probably be bringing their own friends as well.

I hadn't decided on what I was wearing yet, though. It was already almost 9, which was the time the party was supposed to start, and guests were beginning to arrive at Harry's. He had called me a couple times already, asking me if I wanted to be picked up, but he sounded like he was a little bit drunk already, so I said no. Finally, at the last minute, I decided to leave my hair super straight and down my back. I picked out a royal blue cropped chiffon sheer blouse and a tight black high waisted bandage skirt, paired with a matching blue bra that showed underneath the top and a pair of black glittery pumps. I put on extra eyeliner and mascara and pink lipgloss and headed out. My father wasn't home, so I left him a note telling him where I was, and that I would probably be sleeping over at Harry's. With that, I started walking to Harry's house.

Once I got close, I could hear the music blasting. I giggled to myself, thinking about the boys and what the inside of the house looked like. Knowing them, it would've completely over the top, with way too many guests. That's just the way they liked to do things.

I rang the doorbell, and Louis opened the door, grinning from ear to ear. He was clearly intoxicated.

"LINDSAY DARLING!" He yelled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I laughed and let him lead me inside. There were people everywhere, and on the counters there were hundreds of plastic cups filled with who knows what. Everyone had a drink in their hand, and people were dancing, mingling, sitting on couches, and filling up any possible space. It took me several minutes to find Harry, but when I did, he was nursing a beer while talking to a gorgeous brunette.

"Hi babe!" Harry exclaimed, pulling me by my waist toward him. I resisted, and he noticed.

"This is Alice, one of Zayn's old friends!" Harry gave me a wink, as to let me know that Alice was one of Zayn's old girls. I gave a small smile as Alice gave me a nasty look. I walked away quickly- I didn't want a rude bitch to ruin my final party. I hated to admit it, but the fact that Harry was hanging out with her instead of me was annoying, and starting to get to me. I went to the kitchen counter and threw back a shot of tequila, something I regretted immediately. The taste lingered in my mouth, so I grabbed a cup of beer to wash it down.

"Woah woah woah, slow down there." Harry stumbled behind me, taking my waist in his hands and hugging me from behind. He gave me a kiss on the cheek, and I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"You're one to talk." I said stubbornly. I walked away from his grip and took a seat on an empty sofa, taking a long swig of my beer.

"I'm just having a good time, Linds..." he struggled to talk, but I could see in his eyes that he meant what he said. I felt bad, but I wasn't going to let him off the hook so quickly.

"I don't get why you were spending time with Alice. What about me! Harry, I leave tomorrow. Do you get that?"

"I was just talking to her." he said sternly, and loudly. I got a little nervous.

"You know if it was me and another guy, you would've been jealous too."

Harry stopped for a second. "Well I'm sorry. I didn't know it would hurt your feelings." he got a mischievous look on his face as he leaned forward as if he was going to kiss me. "Forgive me?" he started to tickle me, and I was giggling hysterically. "Stop, stop, Harry! Stop!" We were rolling around on the couch. My beer spilled on my skirt, and I sighed.

"Harry, I have to clean this up. Can I use your bathroom?"

"Yeeeaaaahhhh." I smiled at his now lazy drunkenness. As I got up, he took my wrist and gently pulled me down to the couch again. "I love you, babygirl." I kissed him lightly on the lips, and went up the stairs to the bathroom.

I took my time cleaning the beer out of my skirt, but a small stain still lingered. I heard some screaming and some "WOOOO'S" from downstairs, and I left the bathroom to go downstairs and look. Liam was sprinting up the stairs, and when he found me, he held his arms out to the sides, as if to block my sight. "Lindsay, I don't think you need to-" I ran past him, knowing something was going on downstairs with Harry. As I got there, I immediately saw what the fuss was about.

Harry. And Alice. Making out on the couch where he had just told me he loved me ten minutes ago.

My head started spinning, and I couldn't feel my legs. I could feel myself screaming and shouting, telling him it was over, calling her a skanky bitch, and flinging the necklace he gave me at him. I felt like I was stuck in a horrible dream, it didn't feel like real life. Harry reached out for me, drunk confusion in his eyes, but I screamed at him to never touch me again. I tried to run up the stairs, but I fell, hitting my head on the banister. Spots filled my vision, and my head hurt more than ever. I felt someone pick me up, princess style, and before I knew it, I was laying on a bed in an unfamiliar room. I touched my head and winced. I unintentionally moaned.

"Are you okay? Well, that's a stupid question. But do you need anything?" I didn't have to look up to know whose room I was in, or who had just saved me. His voice was familiar, a ghost coming back from the corners of my mind. Zayn. Suddenly, I felt sick to my stomach.

"I need a trashcan. I'm about to vomit."

Zayn got up and came back quickly, and set the trashcan in front of me just as I threw up. Zayn held my hair back, and gave me a piece of gum and a napkin when I was finished.

"Thank you."

"Its no problem. I'm so sorry, Lindsay. He's a real bastard. I wanna kick the shit out of him, but I can't. You don't deserve it."

At that moment, it finally kicked in, and I finally realized what had just happened. Harry had cheated on me. He really had cheated on me, while I was just a floor above him. I started to cry. Not loud obnoxious tears, but the horrible, unstoppable, silent crying that

makes you unable to breathe. Zayn didn't say anything, he just sat there with me and rubbed my back.

When I finally stopped crying, I was left completely exhausted. Zayn pulled down his bed sheets for me, and helped me under the covers. When he started to walk towards his sofa, I took his arm and pulled. "Stay, please." The thought of being alone frightened me. Zayn nodded, and crawled into bed next to me, hesitantly pulling me in closer to him. I let him do it, and I fell asleep faster than I ever had in my life.


End file.
